Following Orders
by Richefic
Summary: How McGee came to be offered the post as Senior Field Agent of the MCRT and why he turned it down. Spoilers for Bounce.
1. Chapter 1

Gibbs finished his report and read it through carefully. He had his pride after all and it wouldn't do to have it sent back for a spelling mistake or grammatical error. Satisfied that everything was in order he signed it with a flourish and rose to his feet, making the short journey across the bullpen to drop his handiwork on DiNozzo's desk.

"I'm done." He announced.

"As am I," Ziva rose to her feet in her turn and plucked her report out of her printer, slipping it into a folder, as she came around Gibbs and passed the report to her temporary team lead. "It was like 'old times' as Ducky would say."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs looked at the small frown furrowing the younger man's brow as he concentrated intently on the screen. "It's been a long day. Finish it up."

"I just want to get this right." Tony retorted.

"You already did." Gibbs said quietly.

Tony looked up sharply, his face softening into a pleased smile as he caught the sincerity in the ex-marine's expression. He knew without needing to check that his Boss' sentiments would be reflected in his report. He nodded, in acceptance of the well-earned approval.

"You about done McGeek?" Tony tipped back in his chair as he looked across at the junior Agent. "It's time for wine, women and song, although not necessary in that order."

"I just need a little longer," McGee responded, not taking his eyes off the screen as he typed. "There."

Printing off his report he signed it neatly and slipped it in a file before standing up and holding the file out to his Boss. Gibbs looked down at the folder and up at the face of the youngest member of his team, before jerking his head sharply in DiNozzo's direction. As Tim shrugged and dropped the folder on Tony's desk the Italian appeared not to notice anything amiss.

"You want to take those reports up to the Director? He'll need to brief you about tomorrow," Gibbs tipped his head on one side as he surveyed his protégé, before he turned his attention to his two other team members. "Ziva, call it a night. Not you, McGee."

"Boss," Tony looked from Gibbs to McGee and back again. "It's fine. Everything's cool. You don't need to .."

Gibbs didn't even pretend to be surprised. Of course, DiNozzo _had _noticed. Just as he would have noticed every other dammed time, which is why the ex-marine wasn't about to let this lie. He had let DiNozzo talk him out of giving the junior Agent a formal reprimand last time when McGee had tricked him into going with that Deputy in Stillwater. Now he figured it was past time to deliver an object lesson.

"Yeah," Gibbs tone left no room for argument. "I do. "

"Tomorrow?" McGee put in as his eyes tracked DiNozzo double timing it up the stairs towards Vance's office. "What's happening tomorrow?"

He stepped right up into the younger man's personal space, causing McGee to take a step backward and look a bit nervous. It was rare that he felt the need to give any of his team a serious dressing down but when he did he wanted to be sure that they were left in no doubt of the error of their ways.

"I'm out tomorrow at a security conference," Gibbs gave a thin smile. "You know what that means, McGee?"

McGee swallowed hard. He was very much afraid that he did know exactly what that would mean, but he clung to a faint hope that he could be wrong. The new Director didn't seem to have exactly warmed to DiNozzo and his more unorthodox methods. Maybe that would be enough to convince Vance not to let the Senior Field Agent take control of the team.

"We're being taken off rotation?" He hazarded, only to see Gibbs eyes narrow and his expression darken in a way that suggested McGee had better re-think that supposition or else. Hastily back tracking the computer expert corrected himself. "Um, it means Tony's in charge, Boss."

"Dammed straight it does," Gibbs affirmed. "And you will follow every single order he gives you to the letter. Or I will want to know the reason why. Do I make myself absolutely clear Special Agent McGee?"

"Oh come on, Boss," McGee's sense of injustice overcame his normal reticence. "You know how insufferable Tony can be when he's left in charge. You can't seriously want me to obey his every whim whilst he struts about like .."

"A peacock, McGee?" Gibbs raised a dangerous brow.

"I was going to say like he owns the place. But whatever fits," McGee was far from happy. How petty could the former Homicide Detective get? Telling tales to Gibbs? "I can't believe Tony told you about that."

"Tony hasn't said squat to me," Gibbs corrected. "Although, he would be well within his rights to write you up for insubordination, given the way you have been acting towards him recently, passing over the chain of command, being disrespectful towards a superior officer, challenging orders in the field. Would you try any of that crap with me?"

"Aw, c'mon Boss," Tim pleaded his case. "Tony pushes the boundaries all the time."

Gibbs thought about pointing out that DiNozzo rarely overstepped the mark. That he knew when to suck it up and do his job and he knew when to use his personality to get witnesses on side or suspects off balance. But Gibbs knew a much better way to deal with this. It wasn't as if McGee was the first high flying NCIS Agent to think DiNozzo wasn't entirely senior field Agent material, never mind worthy of leading his own team.

"DiNozzo's earned the right." Gibbs countered flatly. "I'm still wondering what makes you think that you can flout his authority."

"Because he makes it so easy." McGee answered without thinking.

"Is that so?" Gibbs countered. "Well, I'm going to make things easy for you. All day tomorrow you will follow his orders to the letter. Whatever he wants, whatever he needs, you will do_ exactly_ as he says. If I hear one word different you'll be off my team so fast your head will spin. Are we clear, McGee?"

"Yes Boss," McGee agreed miserably. "Um, you're not actually going to _tell_ Tony about this are you?"

If DiNozzo didn't know he was under orders from Gibbs he might get buy with simply seeming unusually co-operative. If the senior field Agent knew he was under orders from Gibbs the man would probably be beside himself thinking up pointless errands for him to run, or embarrassing activities for him to undertake.

He could only begin to imagine the kind of torture DiNozzo could put him through.

"Nope," Gibbs assured him blandly. McGee's almost sagged in relief until he realised his Boss' focus had shifted upwards to a point somewhere behind his left shoulder. "I don't need to."

A sinking feeling in his stomach already sure what he would see, McGee turned slowly, looking up to see DiNozzo leaning against the railing outside of MTAC, his arms crossed in front of his chest. As McGee met his eyes Tony simply lifted one of his brows. It was obvious that he had heard.

"I am so dead." McGee decided.


	2. Chapter 2

AN – I can honestly say I have never had such a strong reaction to a new story idea. I'm frankly a little nervous about having raised so many expectations but this is just my take on things. If you don't like it and are at all inclined I'd love to read other versions. Part 2/3.

* * *

McGee took far longer than usual deciding what to wear the following morning. He figured if DiNozzo was planning on having him spend the day mouldering down in records, or digging through dumpsters he should dress down accordingly. Except that, if he went too casual he wouldn't put it past the senior Agent to arrange to have him escort some high ranking VIP or take part in a conference call with some International leader whilst sporting an outfit that made him look more like a postgraduate student than a competent Federal Agent.

Frustrated, he scowled at his closet. He hadn't even begun the working day and DiNozzo was already messing with his head. Making his decision he finally settled on simply wearing his normal shirt, jacket and tie. He was almost about to leave his apartment, had already opened the door, when he doubled back to stuff a spare sweater and a change of pants in his bag. He did not want to repeat the ribbing he had endured the last time he had ended up needing a change of clothes and had nothing else to wear but his gym clothes.

As he rode his elevator down to the parking garage beneath his apartment block, he did his best to convince himself that he could take whatever DiNozzo could throw at him. After all, he had already worked under the man for several years. And things hadn't been _that_ bad when Gibbs was in Mexico. Even so, he felt distinctly nervous as he got closer to the Navy Yard. Perhaps he had taken things a bit far recently. Would stopping to pick up breakfast be seen as a conciliatory gesture or would Tony just think he was brown nosing?

McGee sighed.

Whatever he did it seemed like a no win situation, might as well just keep things as close to normal as possible. Happy with that idea, he parked his car and stepped into the elevator, impulsively checking his reflection and straightening his tie. On impulse he looked at his watch, pleased to see that he had arrived a whole five minutes to spare. Not early enough to seem over keen to please, but not giving DiNozzo any other reason to yank his chain either. Pasting on a smile he strode as confidently as he could into the bullpen. Tony's desk was empty but his backpack indicted that he was around. Ziva was already at her desk quietly working, she did not look up as he entered. As he looked around, McGee was dismayed to see a large Styrofoam cup and small paper wrapped packet on Tony's desk.

"You brought him breakfast." He blurted.

"Do not make it sound as if this is so unusual, McGee," Ziva rebuked him. "It was my turn to buy."

"You sure you weren't just trying to 'suck up'?" McGee asked sourly, confident she would recognise the idiom, Tony used it often enough.

"Perhaps if I had never done such a thing before," Ziva shrugged. "However, that is far from the case and besides, I do not see what is wrong in doing something nice for my teammates on occasion."

"You didn't buy anything for me."

"You were not here."

"McGee," Tony swept in behind them. "You're late."

"No, I'm not," McGee protested, only to realise that in the time he had been talking to Ziva the clock had ticked one minute past their 'official' start time and he was still standing in the middle of the bullpen wearing his coat and holding his bag. "It's only a minute."

"It's only a minute, _Boss._" Tony corrected.

"It's only a minute, Boss." McGee parroted, with a pained sigh.

"A minute could make the difference between life and death McTardy," Tony rebuked him. "Turn up to a scene the minute after someone jumps off the roof or fires the killing shot and it's kinda hard to be a hero."

"Most of our victims are already dead," McGee pointed out, even as he made his way to his desk and began taking off his coat. "They tend not to notice the passage of time."

"Except, physical evidence decays, fingerprints, distinguishing marks, clothing disappears, clues get dispersed, discarded or dumped and did I say you could sit down?"

McGee froze in the act of putting away his bag. For a moment, he had forgotten Gibbs' standing orders for the day. Now _technically_ Tony could already complain that he was late and that he had argued with a superior officer and it was less than five minutes into the day.

"Alright," He figured he might as well get it over with. "What do you want me to do? Go fetch something you don't really need from the evidence locker? Hack into some girls e-mail for you? Empty your trash basket? Lick your boots?"

"What I want, McGee," Tony gave him a mildly reproving look. "Is for you to do the job you are employed to do. Now Abby needs some help cleaning up that footage we took on that stakeout last month so we can show it to the boys and girls at JAG. So, shoo already."

All morning McGee kept waiting for the other show to drop. Tony's requests for him to fetch coffee, file paperwork, do expenses and deal with the newly transferred Metro cop who wanted Gibbs to pay a speeding ticket were all annoying but not unreasonable demands on the low Agent on the totem pole when they did not have an active case. It was plenty annoying but nothing he could actually complain about.

"My money is on Gibbs," McGee decided at lunch, after he had thoroughly deconstructed his sandwich to check for jalapeños or insects or whatever else might amuse DiNozzo to see him choke on and decided it was safe to eat. "I bet $20 Tony's under orders from Gibbs to keep things professional."

"And this would be why Gibbs keeps a bottle of acetone in his desk?" Ziva shook her head.

McGee scowled. He wished Gibbs would simply order Tony to stop putting superglue on his keyboard in the first place. The fact that he kept the solution to hand suggested he approved of the prank. Just like he tolerated Tony playing computer games on his PC, or metered out nothing more than a glare or a head slap, even for his most extreme behaviours. McGee shook his head, it wasn't that he ..

"Grab your gear," Tony interrupted his thoughts as he doubled timed it down the stairs from MTAC and made a beeline for his own desk. "There's been a report of shots fired at the security conference Gibbs is attending. The Director wants us to get down there and find out what is going on before it ends up on You Tube."

"Gibbs?" Ziva asked worriedly, even as she complied.

"Not answering his cell," Tony's tone was curt, reflecting his own concern as he reached for his own sidearm. "Probably too busy making sure he gets taken hostage. Ziva, you're driving, make like Sandra Bullock in speed. Only faster."

"That is not a problem."

"McGee, pull up all the specs for the entire building, layout, exits, maintenance access, you know the drill," Tony picked up his bag, already moving towards the elevator. "You'd think a bunch of security experts would know better than to congregate in a 5 star hotel in the middle of down town with panoramic windows."

"I hear the Chef is very good there." Ziva shrugged.

"He would need to be Bruce Willis in "Die Hard" to do us any good, right now," Tony pointed out. "I don't think a signature dish of white sausage with a side of fried spinach is going to cut it with the bad guys."

The rest of the ride down to the parking garage was silent. Only as Ziva put her foot to the floor and they sped out of the parking garage, banking a little to the right and turning McGee a light shade of green did DiNozzo speak.

"So McGee, you want to tell me why you have such a problem following my lead?"

McGee scowled as Ziva navigated the van through the clogged city streets with only the barest nod to traffic regulations. Concentrating on swallowing hard to keep his motion sickness at bay, and keep his lap top balanced on his knees as he pulled up the files Tony had asked for. he could hardly believe his ears.

"You want to talk about this _now_?"

"Even with Annie Porter at the wheel, we have some time before we get there," Tony allowed. "And I know you can type and talk at the same time. So, fess up, Probie. What exactly has been going on with you lately?"

"Sorry," McGee apologised insincerely. "But I really don't feel like talking about this, _Boss._"

"Well, that's too bad, McReticient," Tony's tone shifted from silky smooth to iron hard. "Because I have no intention of putting Gibbs' life in danger because you decide to second guess my orders at a critical moment. So either you start talking or I will kick your ass to the kerb and I won't have Ziva pull over to do it either. I'll just open the damned door." His tone brooked no argument.

"Tony, I really don't think .." McGee argued anyway.

"Start talking, McGee," Tony snapped, his voice almost Gibbs-like in its curtness. "That's an order."


	3. Chapter 3

AN- I am humbled by the reaction to this story which I think sadly reflects a strong feeling not against McGee but the direction the writers have taken all our characters this year. I am holding out the last four episodes wil not only address this but give us back the family feeling and team dynamic that drew me in at the beginning and has kept me watching for six seasons. And I know I said three chapters - but I wanted to do this justice so there will be at least one more.

* * *

"Tony," McGee pressed his lips together. He didn't actually think Tony would make good on his threat to kick him to the kerb but their Boss had certainly made _his _feelings perfectly clear. Even so, he still wasn't sure that this was the time or the place to get into any of this. "It's not that simple."

"It's not that hard either," Tony corrected tersely. "You've been pretty vocal in your opinions of late. Extrapolate."

"Extrapolate?" McGee blinked.

"It means..," Tony began with an exaggerated sigh.

"_I_ know what it means, I just didn't think..," McGee began, only to bite his tongue when he realised how his words might sound. "That is .."

"You think you are smarter than me." Tony stated flatly.

"I do have .. certain advantages .. in some areas," McGee saw no point in denying that.

"Like having a bio-medical engineering degree from John Hopkins

McGee shot the senior Agent a sharp glance but Tony was staring straight ahead his face completely expressionless. Even after all this time McGee was never sure when to take the man seriously and when he was just yanking his chain. He didn't think he would ever understand how he and Gibbs managed to have entire non-verbal conversations using little more than a sardonic look and a raised eye-brow.

"I might have been a little over zealous on that occasion," McGee hated the heat he could feel reddening his cheeks. "But even putting that aside I've been on Gibbs' team for more than five years now. That's even longer than Stan Burghley. Its longer than anyone .."

"Except me." Tony supplied.

"Except you," McGee agreed. "Which kinds of proves my point."

"Oh?" Tony asked dangerously quietly.

It had a long time since McGee had been truly awed (he refused to admit to frightened) by DiNozzo. The days when a look from the senior field Agent had him hastening to 'add a sir' were long past. Tony had gone from being an almost mythical figure, who actually seemed to thrive on working for the mythical Leroy Jethro Gibbs, through a being part-time tormentor and sometime mentor to becoming a real friend and partner. He had begun to take him for granted, perhaps was even a little complacent.

Perhaps he should re-consider his approach.

"All I'm saying," He backtracked a little. "Is that most Agents of your seniority already have their own teams. You seem pretty accepting of the status quo," As far as Tim was concerned ambition was as natural as breathing. Straight As, outstanding SATs, brilliant College transcripts, he had always strived to be the very best. That DiNozzo would settle for second place seemed a lot like failure to him. "Don't you want your own team?"

"Not especially." Tony's voice was devoid of emotion.

McGee couldn't understand that. If he was honest his respect for DiNozzo had begun to erode at the point when when the man had meekly accepted Gibbs' abrupt return from Mexico, slipping back into his role as senior field Agent like a loyal pup just grateful for his bowl of water and daily supply of Alpro, pushing McGee back down the chain of command in the process.

"I suppose some people are just more Commander Riker than Captain Picard." He shrugged.

He caught the way DiNozzo's eyes narrowed fractionally. The former detective might not have caught the exact nature of the sci-fi reference but he was smart enough to recognise that it wasn't exactly a compliment.

It had been frustrating watching the number of Agents being promoted over DiNozzo's head. Jeff Dawson had got that prestigious posting to Rota, which seemed like the kind of thing DiNozzo should have at least considered. Paula Cassidy had got her own team at the Pentagon, despite her actions at Gitmo, although admittedly that one hadn't turned out so well. But even when Director Vance had made him an "Agent Afloat" a posting that most Agents at NCIS would consider the high point of their career, DiNozzo had treated it like a punishment and actually badgered Gibbs to get him re-assigned to DC.

McGee still wasn't entirely sure why Gibbs had been so obliging about that. It wasn't as if the ex-marine was particularly known for being especially indulgent towards his people's whims. And yet McGee knew for a fact that Gibbs hadn't even glanced at the files Vance had given him. Not only that, but he had skirted close to insubordination when he had allowed DiNozzo to ride his own collar back to DC from the Seahawk as he tried to 'bounce' the Director into a decision. So, Tony had stayed, Abby had been delighted, Ziva had been inscrutable, Gibbs had mellowed and McGee had felt like he had taken one step forward and two steps back.

"We are here." Ziva announced.

"Bring the cool gadgets, time to make like James Bond," DiNozzo instructed, his voice distant, as he jumped down out of the truck, his eyes picking over the small crowd of LEOs, FBI, MI6 and other international enforcement agencies. "I'm going to talk to the enemy."

"The gun man?" Ziva hazarded.

"Fornell." Tony clarified.

Adjusting the fit of his bullet proof vest with a sharp tug, Tony's features hardened as he contemplated the task ahead. Gibbs was in there somewhere and knowing his Boss he would be in the thick of things. He tried not to let his concern to show in his eyes as he came up behind Fornell.

"Any word from Gibbs?"

"Not now DiNutso," Fornell dismissed him. "We have a situation here."

"C'mon, Toby, we're all on the same side here. Well, except for Sacks, I've always thought he was after your job. But apart from you and Diane, who knows more about the way Gibbs mind works than I do. I'll bet his boat he was first in line for getting shot."

The FBI Agent gave him a level look. He had his own reasons for disliking DiNozzo but over the years the brash young man had proved himself as a worthy second to Gibbs and the ex-Marine's faith in him had never wavered. Tobias figured that had to count for something.

"See for yourself."

Fornell stepped aside so that DiNozzo could view the live CCTV feed. Two gunmen dressed in suit and tie but sporting black balaclavas had moved a small knot of hostages into the fire escape. DiNozzo observed the images on screen for a long moment his face expressionless. If he were honest he hadn't expected anything less. Even so, the sight of his Boss, his mentor, the man he loved more than his own father, standing there with a gun to his head made him sick to his stomach.

"Read me in."

"This is an FBI operation," Fornell warned. "NCIS has no jurisdiction here."

"Sure," Tony pasted on a bright grin. "I'm just curious."

"Guy's name is Brian Dowling. Ex-special forces, he was attending the conference as a legitimate delegate, representing a security company that does out source work for the government. As far as we know he sat through two seminars this morning, grabbed some lunch and then something set him off."

"How did he get a weapon?" Tony asked, as Ziva arrived with McGee. "I thought all delegates to the conference had to check their weapons at the door?"

"He took out one of the security guards when they were in the bathroom. Talk about being caught with your pants down," Fornell made a face. "Then he used that weapon to kill five other guards and took their weapons. Granted he only has a limited supply of firepower but when five of your hostages are leading figures in our allies' governments that's not really an issue. The death of any one of then would be an enormous embarrassment to the US Government."

"If he simply wanted to execute the hostages he could have done that already," Ziva pointed out.

"He hasn't made any demands," Fornell shrugged. "So far we have no idea what his next move will be. All we know is he threatened to start shooting the hostages if we try to enter the stairwell again. I already have a man in the Hospital from the last time we tried. Don't go doing anything stupid, DiNutso, it might get your Boss killed."

"Wasn't planning on it. Only thing worse than having Gibbs kick my ass would be him haunting me for all eternity." Tony assured him, as he squinted at the screen."You manage to talk to Gibbs at all?"

"Not yet," Fornell admitted. "We've been trying to establish a line of communication but this guy doesn't seem to want to play ball. And he starts shooting whenever we get too close."

"McGee," Tony took a moment to fix an ear wick. "How would you establish communication in a situation like this?"

"There are a variety of ways," McGee replied confidently. "We could send a message via Gibbs cell. We could send in a probe. We might try using the PA system in the Hotel. We could bring in a professional negotiator to open a dialogue. Or find a family member to talk with him."

"Gee, why didn't the FBI think of any of that?" Tony wondered.

Fornell scowled but it was Ziva who answered.

"I expect they did, but none of those scenarios will be effective if he is not choosing to speak with us. You can lead a horse to water but you cannot make it drunk, yes?"

"Close enough," Tony agreed. "This is why we are going to do this the old-fashioned way. McGee you position yourself here in the hallway on the 23rd floor. Do not enter the stairwell unless I give the order. Ziva, you're with me."

"Hey," Fornell barked. "Who died and put you in charge?"

"Relax Toby, I'm just going to have "a little chat."" Tony assured him, waggling his eyebrows as he made like Sean Connery. "I promise to invite you to the party if things get interesting."

"What makes you think he will talk to you?" McGee scoffed.

"Because I've met him before," Tony responded, his eyes darkening "And I know exactly what he wants."


	4. Chapter 4

AN - Much appreiciation for your continued support for this little story. All your comments and contributions have provoked my muse so there will be more after this .. how much more I've frankly given up guesstimating. I'll keep writing until to paraphrase MW I'm ready to stick a fork in this and call it done.

* * *

"How do you know this Dowling?" Ziva asked as they made their way towards the staircase on the opposite side of the Hotel to where the Hostages were being held. This would allow them to access the floor where the Hostages were without spooking Dowling before they could make verbal contact. "Has he done security work for NCIS?"

"When are our lives ever that easy Ziva?" Tony queried as he held open the door to the stairwell for her, letting her pass through, before following, allowing the door to swing in McGee's face.

"Please don't let this be another totally unrealistic story of 'when I was a cop in Baltimore'," McGee scowled, as he barely stopped the door from hitting him, the delay forcing him to hurry to catch up. In the time he had been working at NCIS he had heard endless stories about DiNozzo's prowess during his two years at Baltimore working homicide, narcotics, undercover, traffic and who knew what else. McGee had long since suspected that most of Tony's stories about his previous career were simply designed to fit the situation and extract whatever information he needed at the time, which was fine just so long as he didn't expect to fool his own team mates."Just what exactly did you do when you worked there anyway?"

"I saved Gibbs' life." Tony glared at him over his shoulder.

Behind him McGee exchanged a look with Ziva not entirely sure how to take that. She simply shrugged, before returning her attention to the task in hand. She could see by the set of Tony's shoulders that he was worried. This Dowling was obviously a real threat to Gibbs not to mention the other hostages. She narrowed her eyes slightly as she considered that, even accounting for their Boss's willingness to talk himself into trouble, there were other far more high profile figures at the conference if this Dowling wished to draw attention to his issues and bring pressure to bear.

"He knows Gibbs," She realised. "This is about Gibbs."

"Never thought that keeping the lists of those who are attending these conferences Top Secret was actually a security risk," Tony confirmed her suspicions as he kept his focus on climbing the stairs. "If I had known Dowling was coming I would never have let Gibbs attend."

"Please," McGee rolled his eyes. "Since when did anyone ever 'let' Gibbs do anything."

Tony stopped dead and turned to fix his subordinate with an icy look. Ziva almost winced. The words might have a grain of truth but flagging up the obvious flaw of Gibbs' headstrong personality when the Italian was already feeling the weight of his responsibilities was hardly helpful.

"I'm the senior field Agent," Tony focused on McGee. "It's my duty to point out to our esteemed leader when he currently has his head up his ass. And if that doesn't work, then I do what Riker always does for Picard, McStarfleet. I wait and I worry and then I do whatever it takes to save him from himself.

"Oh," McGee swallowed.

He hadn't thought the Senior Field Agent had known enough to correctly understand the criticism that Starfleet had pulled out the Captains chair for the First Officer four times and Riker had refused to sit down. He may have been wrong about that. McGee couldn't deny that DiNozzo had been a fine second in commend, never afraid to go toe to toe with Gibbs and going out of his way to shield his teammates from the ex-marines wrath, which only made it all the harder to understand why he would settle for second best.

"So this Dowling has had dealings with NICS before?" Ziva pressed for information, as they continued to climb.

"One of my earlier cases with Gibbs," Tony nodded. "Not long after the Boss approved Dawn Robert's transfer and before he was forced to accept Steven Brooker's transfer TAD from California. We solved it but at a price. Dowling's sister and her children had to go into witness protection. He was deployed overseas at the time and came home to find that they had simply vanished. He had never married, his parents were dead, his sister and her children were his only family. He hasn't seen them since."

"This is what he's been waiting for, someone to bring his sister here?" McGee queried.

"That or Gibbs' head on a platter," Tony was succinct. "He blames him for encouraging Maureen to testify. He thinks that if he hadn't been out of contact on some super secret super mission he could have protected her and there would have been no need for the witness protection programme."

"So really he blames himself for not being here to protect his family?" Ziva deduced.

"And Gibbs is a convenient scapegoat." McGee put in. "Easier than blaming himself."

"Yeah," Tony sounded unexpectedly irritated. "And you know how Gibbs is. If there is any blame to be dished out he is right up there wanting it all for himself."

"But it was Dowling's fault he wasn't there." To McGee's mind it was logical. There was nothing more important than family. He had risked his career and Gibbs' wrath to protect his little sister, although, his mathematical mind also had to vector in the man's service to his country. "Well not his fault exactly, as he was probably out saving lives, and protecting the world as we know it but .."

"Gibbs would not see it that way." Ziva spoke up.

The unspoken knowledge that Gibbs still blamed himself for not being at home to prevent the deaths of his wife and daughter hung in the air between them. His sense of justice might drive him to want the sister to testify but he would understand the soldier's pain at the loss of his only family.

"Except, it wasn't Gibbs fault," Tony surprised them. "It was mine."

"You screwed up?" McGee couldn't hide the note of glee in his voice.

He had to be honest with himself, transferring to Major Crimes as a Field Agent had been a dream come true. That the legend that was Leroy Jethro Gibbs would personally handpick him for his team had seemed like the pinnacle of his career. Except, the reality of the situation had quicklyn sent him crashing back down to earth, oh he had been able to shine when the team needed technical support, although Abby was one of the few people he had ever met who could give him a run for his money there, but Gibbs had hired him as a Field Agent and he had only been prepared to cut him so much slack for being the newbie. McGee simply wasn't used to being out of his depth.

All through school his studies had come easily to him. He quickly learnt to avoid things that were not his forte and channelled his energies into areas he could excel like the scouting movement. So, failure rarely happened to him. As an Agent on Gibbs' team he was forced to confront things, the way dead or dismembered bodies made him nauseous, his inexperience in reading a suspect or a crime scene. He had constantly felt like he was lagging behind DiNozzo and to some degree Kate, whose own backgrounds made them far more suited to those kinds of skills. To the best of his knowledge no-body had ever called the ex-FBI Agent or former Homicide Detective "Probie."

"Yeah," The flat emotionless tone from the usually exuberant DiNozzo caught McGee by surprise. "I did. And now Gibbs is paying the price."

"You think this Dowling will kill him?" As usual Ziva was brutally direct.

"Not if I have anything to do with it," Tony's tone was hard as iron. "Gibbs already stepped up to the plate once to cover my ass. I'm sure as hell not going to let him carry the can this time."

"If we are to prevent that, then we need to know exactly what happened." Ziva pointed out.

Tony's shoulder's tensed and as they walked the next few flights in silence McGee thought the Italian wasn't going to answer her. Which was a little unusual for whatever you might say about DiNozzo he was the first to admit that he had messed up, McGee couldn't help but admire him for that. When he did finally start talking, in a low, controlled, voice, it was the last thing McGee expected to hear.

"What Dowling doesn't know is that his sister wasn't the witness. She said she saw nothing, she knew nothing and so NCIS had no real case. We had her boyfriend in interrogation for the rape and murder of a Petty Officer and he was all set to walk. Gibbs told me to take the kids for ice-cream while he had another crack at the mother. We were workinmg the case two-handed so he didn't have many options but me and kids is never a good idea so I bribed Abby with Caff Pow to come along."

"The children were the witnesses," McGee realised. "Dowling's sister put her family into witness protection because she was protecting her children."

"She wasn't stupid," Tony agreed. "Her boyfriend came from a rich and powerful family with long arms and even longer memories. If they testified against him nothing would ever be safe. Her job, her fitness as a parent, hell even the kid's admission to College, there was nothing this man and his relations couldn't sabotage."

"So she did not talk," Ziva nodded. "That is understandable."

"But one of the children talked to you?" McGee was understandably surprised. Tony didn't have the best rapport with children. "Kids hate you."

"The little girl needed to go to the bathroom. Abby took her. They had to wait in line. It took a while. Apparently, she couldn't understand why I hadn't made her go with me. Apparently, Mommy's boyfriend always took her to the bathroom when they went anyplace. That was how he showed her how much he loved her." Tony's tone was bitter.

"The little girl talked to Abby?" Ziva frowned. "That would not constitute a witness statement. She would need to repeat her allegation to a Federal Agent. It would need to be recorded."

"She was four years ZIva," Tony hissed. "Do you really think she would be capable of making that kind of stuff up? I wrote it up and between us Gibbs and I fixed it so the kid didn't have to go to court. Sarah was both devastated and terrified. She knew what boyfriend's family were like and all she could think about was getting her children as far from their reach as she could. That's when she signed up for witness protection."

"But you did a good thing. You protected her family," McGee was confused. "What makes you think you screwed up?"

"Because Gibbs convinced Dowling that it was down to him that Sarah and her kids went into witness protection and it wasn't. That was all down to me and now Gibbs' head is on the block becuse of it."

Tony's body language did not encourage any further conversation and Ziva was too busy with her own thoughts. So it was McGee's slightly breathless observation which finally broke the silence between them.

"Is there a good reason we didn't just take one of the elevators?"


	5. Chapter 5

AN- Realy sorry for the delay, never meant to leave anyone hanging but RL has its own agenda. As compensation this chapter is somewhat longer and the final chapter will be up soon - as this weekned is a UK holiday.

* * *

Afterwards, McGee would remember the proceedings like a series of scenes from a movie. The general chain of events, how they shifted from one scenario to another would fade into oblivion. But each pivotal moment would remain burned into his mind's eye in glorious Technicolor. He remembered the dark, serious, look in Tony's eyes as he gave his orders.

"_McGee, you stay down here and cover the lower stairwell. Ziva, go up and block his access to the roof. Dowling doesn't get out of this building except in handcuffs or a body bag. Both of you hide out on this side of the door unless you hear him coming. Last time Gibbs and I worked this case two-handed, let's let him think I've come alone for now."_

"_What are you going to do?" McGee couldn't help but ask._

"_I'm going to tell him something he really doesn't want to hear." Tony admitted._

"_You want him to run," Ziva realised, a hint of approval in her tone. "You are trying to separate him from the rest of the Hostages."_

"_That's the plan, Zee-vah," Tony agreed, his expression grim. "If we are really lucky he'll just take Gibbs along for the ride."_

They had all looked at each other, knowing that the safety of the international delegates had to be their first priority, but hating the fact that to protect them, they had to put their own Boss in even more danger. McGee had no doubt that Gibbs would have made the same call if it had been him, or Ziva, or even Tony up there. Those kinds of risk came with the job. But that didn't make the choice any easier.

"_You have no idea what it was like," Dowling's voice was tight with pain as he stood on the landing, the muzzle of his gun pressed into Gibbs' temple, hard enough to leave a mark, as he argued with Tony, the rest of the Hostages pressed against the wall behind him. "I came home from deployment and they were just gone, like they had never even existed."_

"_She left you a letter," Tony pointed out. "She wanted you to understand. She had to do this, for the children._

_McGee pressed his lips together. His mind picturing the image of Tony, his regulation Sig kicked into a corner at Dowling's insistence. His expensive jacket discarded in a heart beat to prove his wasn't wearing a vest and the back up weapon in his ankle holster slid across to Dowling's feet, down on his knees, with his hands laced behind his head, giving up every personal advantage in order to keep Gibbs alive._

"_I looked for them," Dowling's voice broke. "I quit the service and went into the security business. Made the contacts, called in markers, I only worked to make enough money to keep on looking for them. But I've never found them."_

"_Why now? Why after all these years?" Tony asked, as calmly as if he was in Interrogation back at the Navy Yard, rather than staring down the barrel of a gun, negotiating for the life of their Boss. "I mean, I know Gibbs isn't exactly known for his charming personality but people don't usually try to shoot him unless they are a criminal or a murder and you're neither of those Brian."_

It was textbook stuff. McGee knew all the standard techniques. Establish a connection. Use their first name. Make them see the Hostage as a person not just a means to an end. Ensure they understand the consequences of their actions. Still, he couldn't help but admire the way in which DiNozzo did it. Like it was no big deal, as if the potential for an International incident and the lives of all the hostages not to mention his friend, mentor, almost father didn't rest in his hands.

The news that Brian Dowling was dying from cancer was a blow. It meant that the man had absolutely nothing to loose. That made him dangerous and totally unpredictable. McGee couldn't help but feel some sympathy for the ex-Special Forces soldier. His parents were dead, he had never married, his sister and her children had been his life. All he really wanted was to see his family one last time before he died. But there was no way Tony could make that happen, which meant that there was only one way that this could end.

Badly.

The only question was, for whom?

"_If you come any closer I'll drop him where he stands." Brian Dowling's eyes darted frantically between McGee holding position on the lower landing with his weapon drawn and DiNozzo halfway down the stairs behind him, levelling a gun at his head. In all these years working with DiNozzo McGee had never suspected the ex-homicide detective carried_ two_ backups. Through his ear wig McGee could hear Ziva moving the remaining Hostages to safety, _

"_You know, Boss," Tony observed laconically, as if Dowling hadn't spoken. "Brown really isn't a good colour on you. If you were going to get held hostage in an International incident you really should have worn something blue. Bring out the colour of your eyes."_

"_You think I gave a damn about my shirt, DiNozzo?" Gibbs growled._

When he was a green Probie McGee might have been naïve enough to take that exchange at face value. His expression might well have matched the slightly mocking smile spreading across Dowling's face at the apparent non-sequitar and Gibbs seeming reprimand. Like Dowling he might even have relaxed his stance a little, deciding that the dark haired Agent was buckling under the pressure. But that would have been a mistake.

Now he understood that Tony had just asked for permission to shoot Gibbs if need be and their Boss had agreed. McGee swallowed hard the scientist in him knew that the shot was possible. He was perfectly capable of drawing a diagram that triangulated the perfect spot for the bullet to pass through Gibbs and into Dowling with the minimum amount of trauma to the ex-marine. His qualifying scores on the range proved that he was accurate enough to make the shot.

Shooting an actual person was different. And he hoped it always would be.

He could only imagine how he would feel if he was forced to shoot Gibbs. There was no question that the ex-marine was a demanding Boss, he wanted results and he expected his people to deliver. But he was also a surprisingly patient teacher and loyal to a fault. McGee knew there wasn't many Senior Special Agents who would have taken him on as a field Agent, even less who would have nursed him through numerous mistakes as he focused on his ultimate potential.

Although, if McGee was honest with himself, a lot of the time it had been Tony who had kicked his ass for his routine mistakes, and then covered for him with Gibbs.

"_Brian," Tony tried once more. "You don't want to do this. You are a good man who served his country and loved his family. You don't want to be the reason that their lives are put in danger."_

"_You don't know what it's like," Dowling protested. "To go from having smiling faces to greet you, smothered in hugs and kisses, to coming home to an empty house, filled with nothing but memories and ghosts."_

McGee had winced as he imagined how those words would resonate with Gibbs who still lived in the family home he had shared with his dead wife and daughter. But looking at his Boss' face he was surprised to see Gibbs' eyes narrow with concern as he focused on DiNozzo. Following his gaze, Tim could see that Tony's expression looked a little pale and pinched. But he had no idea why.

"_You're right, I don't," Tony responded. "But I do know that this isn't the way to make things better."_

"_It's the only way I have."Dowling had responded bleakly._

"_Yeah, I know," Tony said simply. "And I'm sorry."_

_Then he fired._

McGee had felt his jaw drop as Gibbs' body jerked convulsively as the bullet hit, a spot of red blossoming on his shoulder even as behind him, Dowling cried with pain as the bullet tore through him in its turn. Both men went down, legs buckling under the impact, Gibbs using his ebbing strength to throw himself forward out of Dowling's now weakening grip, giving DiNozzo the chance to acquire the killing shot, a single bullet through Dowling's forehead.

After that everything had happened very fast. Tony had ignored the outraged squawks and splutters of Fornell through his ear wig to check on Gibbs and call for Paramedics. Charged with calling Ducky and dealing with the removal of Dowling's remains to the Navy Yard, McGee could only stand and watch as Gibbs roused sufficiently to sit up against the advice of the medical professionals and pull at the oxygen mask they placed on his face.

"_Hey!" McGee's eyes widened at the tone of _reprimand_ in DiNozzo's voice. But there could be no doubt as he continued sharply. "Leave that alone."_

McGee wasn't entirely surprised when Gibbs rolled his eyes, but the way he meekly complied with the order was rather more un-expected. DiNozzo's grunt of approval at his compliance was almost Gibbs-like. It was as if the two men had simply changed places without either of them noticing or realising any difference. Following them down the stairs so he could direct Ducky McGee saw how Tony stayed by Gibb's side as the Paramedic's strapped him to a gurney and carried him down to transport him to Bethesda.

"_DiNozzo," Just as Gibbs was being loaded into the Ambulance, he made the supreme effort to raise his head and look his senior field Agent in the eye. "I ought to kick your ass."_

Despite the stern words, his pride and affection shone through. McGee watched as Tony heard what his Boss hadn't said and a tinge of pink pleasure coloured his cheeks at the unequivocal; approval."Love you too, Boss," Tony had managed, giving Gibbs a bright joyful grin before the senior special Agent was whisked away. Only to re-arrange his features into a blank, neutral, mask as he caught sight of the current NCIS Director making his way towards him. Until that moment, McGee had never really appreciated how guarded DiNozzo was around Vance.

"That was good work Agent DiNozzo." Vance met Tony's gaze, letting his expression convey the full extend of his regard. "You may well have just saved several lives as well as avoiding a serious diplomatic embarrassment for the US Government."

McGee bit back his sigh, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He supposed it had only been only a matter of time before Vance looked past Tony's frat boy attitude and began to appreciate his capabilities as an Agent. But was it really necessary to make it sound quiet so much like he had just saved civilised world single-handed? Even thought he knew Tony deserved the praise and he didn't really begrudge him it, the man was going to be insufferable.

"I just did what Special Agent Gibbs trained me to do, sir." Tony responded crisply.

His formality surprised McGee. It obviously hadn't been what Vance had expected either if the slight tilt of his head was any indication. The Director blinked and removed the toothpick from his mouth as he gave Tony a long, considering look.

"We both know you didn't make the best of first impressions, Special Agent DiNozzo."

"No sir." Tony was standing stiffly now, almost at attention.

McGee couldn't help but notice the way that Tony had almost flinched at the oblique reference to the protection detail, which had ended in Jenny's death. Surely he couldn't _still_ think any of that was his fault? He had been following the Director's orders. She was the one who was hell bent on taking things into her own hands. Despite her own misgivings, even Ziva had admitted that going against Jenny's explicit instructions would have meant career suicide.

"_Besides," She had reflected. "I think there was another reason Tony submitted so easily to her orders."_

"_You did look hot in that bikini." McGee spoke without thinking._

"_And don't think I do not know that you still have those pictures on your hard drive," Ziva had responded in an aside that still managed to threaten dire retribution. "But that is not what I meant. Tony trusted Jenny because she was Gibbs protégé and for him that was enough for him to trust her implicitly."_

"_You think that's why? McGee had felt his jaw drop. "Why he took on the whole frog thing? Started dating Jeanne Benoit? Followed Director Shepherd's lead in LA like he was some green Probie instead of listening to his gut? Because he was relying on the fact that Gibbs trained her?"_

"_Gibbs' rule number one,_ never _screw over your partner." Ziva pointed out. "Why do you think Gibbs was so quick to tell Tony Jenny's death was not his fault? Because he understood, after Gibbs left Tony did what Gibbs had trained him to do, He kept us together. He hugged Abby, he listened to Ducky's stories, he reminded me of my limits and he pushed you to rethink yours. But there was no-one left to keep Tony together, expect Jenny, who also knew what it was like to be Gibbs' senior field Agent."_

"_I never really thought about Tony as a person who really needed anyone," McGee had admitted. "I mean, his Mom died when he was ten, his Dad disowned him at twelve. He's always acted like nothing ever really affects him He used to date a different woman every week until Jeanne and that was an assignment."_

"_He needs Gibbs." Ziva had pointed out._

"Special Agent Coughlin's pending transfer overseas frees up a spot as the Supervisory Special Agent of the Major Crimes team in San Diego," Vance's words brought McGee sharply back to the present. "After today's performance I'll be expecting your application."

"Director?" Tony's eyes widened, as if he could not quite believe his ears.

"I'm offering you your own team, DiNozzo," Vance confirmed. "The position is yours, if you want it."


	6. Chapter 6

AN= Bad news is still not finished. Good news is at least another chapter to go!

* * *

McGee felt no remorse for the fact that his first reaction to Vance's offer of a team of his own for Tony was one of unmitigated un-mitigated glee. In his heart of hearts he knew it was nothing less than DiNozzo deserved. And after all these years it would finally free up the spot Tony had been filling after mere months on Gibbs' team. For once, everyone would be happy. Having done his duty in escorting Dowling's remains to the Navy Yard and signing off on his report it was now with a light and optimistic step that Tim exited the Hospital elevator and made his way down the hallway to visit his Boss, eager to discuss his new role as Gibbs' senior field Agent.

Having already spoken to Ducky, he knew that Gibbs had been admitted for observation overnight. Part of him had half-expected the ex-marine to sign himself out AMA regardless of the bullet wound in his shoulder. Until Ducky had pointed out that the fact that DiNozzo had done the right thing, the _only_ possible thing, would not stop the senior field Agent feeling bad for having to shoot his Boss. According to the ME sticking around long enough to regain his fluids and take his meds was apparently Gibbs' way of providing much needed reassurance.

"Special Agent Timothy McGee, I'm here to see Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs." McGee announced himself at the nurses' station.

"He's in room 237," The nurse advised, after checking the computer. "He already has a visitor with him, a Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo?"

"Of course he does," McGee said almost to himself. He should have realised. As soon as all the i's were dotted and t's crossed on their reports DiNozzo had disappeared. It made sense that he had come straight here, he probably wanted to apologise to Gibbs for having had to shoot him, McGee knew that was what he would be doing if he had been in Tony's position. "That's okay, we work together."

Making his way down the hallway McGee slowed as he approached Gibbs' room and heard the ex-marine's raised voice, showing little signs of the pain and fatigue he must be have been feeling as he roundly berated his senior field Agent. Knowing DiNozzo would not appreciate his subordinate hearing his dressing down, McGee hovered out of sight. But exactly what he overheard surprised him, especially as Tony did not appear to be remotely repentant of his earlier actions.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Gibbs was protesting. "Going into a situation like that without wearing a vest?"

"You would have done the same thing." Tony pointed out without a hint of remorse. "Or have you forgotten that time you set yourself up as a sitting duck as a Marine recruiter to attract a target?"

"I had bullet proof glass." Gibbs pointed out.

"And I had Ziva and McGee as back up," Tony countered. "The other hostages were never in danger."

"_You_ DiNozzo,," Gibbs' tone was frustrated and for the first time McGee realised that his Boss' temper stemmed not from anger at sloppy proceedures but from his genuine concern from having had to watch his second, his protégé, his almost son drop to his knees, apparently defenceless, willing to do whatever it took to save his life. "_You_ could have been killed."

"Maybe," Tony wasn't giving any ground. "If I hadn't had a Boss who trained me to anticipate and who cared enough to buy me a second back up. You had my six Boss, just like always."

There was a small silence which McGee fully expected to be broken by the sound of a head slap or at the very least an acerbic remark. Gibbs' tone of quiet sincerity was enough to make his eyes widen. Added to which he couldn't recall the ex-marine ever using his senior field Agent's full given name like that, certainly not in his hearing.

"You did a hellva job today, Anthony," Gibbs praised softly. "Made me proud."

"I'm sorry about your shirt." Tony sounded truely sorry.

"Don't be. It was a clean shot, didn't touch the bone, muscle damage was minimal. Doctor's don't expect any lasting effects," Gibbs addressed his second's real concerns, before he deliberately made his tone gruff. "But in the meantime, they won't let me drive or take off this dammed sling until the stitches come out, so if you had any plans for the weekend you better cancel them."

"Already done, Boss." Tony responded cheerfully.

McGee winced that that. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be at Gibbs' beck and call at any time. When the man was injured and obviously in pain the prospect was even less appealing. But Tony actually seemed to welcome the idea. Thinking about that Tim realised that Gibbs had probably done it deliberately. Being on hand to help take care of his Boss would go a long way to ease Tony's guilt of causing the injury in the first place.

Although.

Gibbs might be a stubborn bastard, but he wasn't superhuman and knitting a bullet hole in his shoulder for a second time would be no picnic. With a sudden start McGee realised that the ex-marine actually would require some help with his personal care, at least in the short term. Although, Ducky seemed like the obvious choice, it was a lot to ask of the elderly ME. McGee knew that Gibbs had taken care of Tony a number of times in recent years when he had been sick or injured. Tim just hadn't quite expected that the stoic ex-marine would allow the younger man close enough to see him weak and vulnerable enough to need to have the favour returned. Clearly that had been a miscalculation.

And it had obviously happened before.

"Vance offered me my own team," Tony spoke up. "In San Diego."

"Uh huh," Gibbs didn't seem at all surprised. "Are you going to take it this time?"

_This time? _McGee swallowed hard as he realised that Tony had obviously been offered his own team before. Coloured flooded his cheeks as he realised that the most likely scenario was that Director Shepherd had offered Tony a promotion right after Gibbs had returned from Mexico. And Tony hadn't said a word about it to McGee even after he had mocked him about not being ready to lead. Tim din't think Ziva had known either. But clealry Gibbs had known even as he had reprimanded McGee over objecting to being called 'Probie'

"Do you think I should?" Tony asked his tone devoid of all emotion.

"Didn't we already talk about this?" Gibbs asked mildly. "It has to be your choice, your decision."

McGee froze in place. Tony had been offered his own team obviously more than once. And Gibbs had known and had done nothing to push his protégé out of the nest. On the contrary, the way he had pressed for DiNozzo's return from assignment as Agent Afloat suggested that he preferred to keep him close at hand. Based on recent events, it clearly wasn't because Gibbs' didn't think he was ready to lead his own team. Which begged the question, why didn't Tony want the promotion and why wasn't Gibbs pushing him to take it?

"Yeah, I know," Tony sighed. "Vance has given me 48 hours to decide."

"Make him wait," There was no disguising the amusement in Gibbs' response. "It won't do any harm to keep him hanging till Monday."

"You never think you would have been happier if you had played the game and taken the post as Director, Boss?" Tony asked curiously.

"Hell no," Gibbs was resolute. "I would have been no good all that ass kissing on the hill. I'm a field Agent, always will be. There are ways to get around people like Vance if you use your head."

"I hear you, Boss," Tony said fervently. Then he seemed to address himself to the matter in hand. Perhaps, he had noticed the lines of pain or fatigue around Gibbs' eyes. "I should be getting back. I'll drop by on my way home with something edible. I know how much you hate that green jello. How do they ever expect sick people to get well when they feel them that stuff?

"Chinese," Gibbs ordered. "And coffee."

"On it Boss," Tony assured him. "You need anything else?"

"Thought I taught you to anticipate?" Gibbs said dryly, and McGee recognised that he wasn't taunting or testing the younger man, but affectionately teasing. A view consolidated when Tony retorted in kind.

"I'll be sure and swing by and pick up your spectacles, wouldn't want you to strain your eyes, Boss," McGee could almost hear Tony's grin. "And I'll pick up the latest issue of Boatbuilder Mazagine, unless, you'd prefer Leatherneck or maybe Divorce monthly?"

"DiNozzo." Gibbs growled, but there was no heat behind it.

McGee slipped back into the shadows as he heard Tony's footsteps head towards the door. As the still grinning senior field Agent swept past him, McGee considered his options. He had already told Ducky and Abby that he was on his way to the Hospital to visit with Gibbs. The nurse at the nurse's station had probably already recorded his arrival. Any of them might well mention his previously voiced intention to visit to Gibbs.

Realising that there was nothing for it but to face the music, McGee squared his shoulders and stepped into the Hospital room.

"Hey Boss," He pasted on a bright smile. "How are you feeling?"


	7. Chapter 7

"McGee," Gibbs blinked and straightened up as he greeted the junior Agent, all traces of pain and fatigue melting away. The movement was instinctive and McGee was a little embarrassed to realise that the ex-marine was rather less comfortable with showing weakness in front of him than had obviously been the case with DiNozzo. Despite being wounded and dressed in nothing but a Hospital gown the ex-marine snapped out his demand as if they were in the bullpen. "What have you got for me?"

"Um," McGee thought fast as he slipped into report mode. "Ducky is doing Dowling's autopsy as we speak. His initial findings indicate that COD was the bullet to the forehead. Tony has surrendered his weapon pending the usual IA enquiry but Abby says all the forensic evidence suggests that it was a clean kill."

"DiNozzo might catch some heat for having a second back-up." Gibbs pointed out.

"Ziva and I have that covered, Boss," McGee reassured. "Given the gravity of the situation and the risk to the hostages we agreed that Tony would carry extra firepower in anticipated of Dowling's demand to disarm."

"That's good work, Tim," Gibbs nodded his satisfaction and McGee felt the usual small glow of pride at his team leader's praise. He didn't actually begrudge the fact that the use of his first name was more likely a reflection of Gibbs' satisfaction that his people had covered DiNozzo's six. They were a team after all, and Tony for all his annoying behaviour had always been there for him when it really counted.

"Tony did a good job," McGee watched Gibbs' expression carefully as he continued. "The Director offered him his own team."

"Its not the first time," Gibbs shrugged, as if it was unimportant. "But it has to be DiNozzo's decision."

"You don't think he should take it?" McGee knew that he was pushing it, but he needed to know. Surely, in his heart of hearts their Boss thought it was past time that Tony stepped up and took over a team of his own? "He's been your senior field Agent longer than anyone. Even Stan Burley moved on after five years."

"Been doing some checking, McGee?" Gibbs asked, raising a brow.

"I was just curious," McGee defended his actions. "Tony was one of the first in his Police Academy class to make Detective. He might have moved around a lot, but it was always for a promotion, then he lands up at NCIS and just sticks. You would think he would be bucking for a promotion if only for the bump up in pay grade."

"DiNozzo doesn't care about the money." Gibbs dismissed that.

"Oh come on, Boss, what about all the clothes, the cars,.." McGee protested.

"Oh, I never said he doesn't _think_ he cares about it," A smile flickered hovered the edge of Gibbs' lips. "But in every important career decision he's ever made, money has never been a consideration. He knows all too well the things money can't buy."

"You have to admit he loves being the one in charge." McGee played his trump card. "Don't get me wrong, Boss. Tony is a great guy and a good Agent but he drives me nuts when he struts around the place like he is God's gift to crime prevention and puts super glue on my keyboard."

"He ever superglue your keyboard when he was in charge?" Gibbs asked, already sure of the answer.

"Actually, no," McGee admitted after a moment of reflection. "But he was arrogant, demanding, overbearing, a real pain in the ass."

"I trained him well," Gibbs shrugged. He knew there were some minor differences in the way that Tony chose to go about things, but that was just a question of style, DiNozzo knew how to step up and get the job done when it counted. Not giving McGee a chance to respond as he fixed the junior Agent with a steely gaze. "You miss having your own team, McGee, is that what all this is about?"

"Don't get me wrong, Boss," McGee was sincere. "I would choose being on your team over heading up a spot in Cybercrimes in a heart-beat. Its just that I feel I have the skills and experience to move on and its getting kinda frustrating having to play second fiddle to Tony all the time."

"If you wanted a shot another being a Senior Field Agent that bad all you had to do was put yourself for consideration when the opportunity opened up," Gibbs advised him, before continuing in a dangerously mild tone. "Kinda like that time with that posting to Iraq."

McGee bit his lip. It still rankled that Tony had hood-winked him into not requesting that assignment and then stepped up and secured the posting for himself. But if he was really honest the part that had truly grated was that even after all these years, he still hadn't been able to tell when DiNozzo was yanking his chain. And he knew that Gibbs had a point, but he couldn't help but feel that serving on any other team other the prestigious Major Crimes, although technically a promotion, would feel like a step down.

"To be honest, Boss, I'm hoping Tony will take the promotion." He admitted.

"You think you're ready to be my senior field Agent, Tim?"

"I like to think I did a good job for Tony when you were in Mexico," McGee nodded, reasonably sure of his ground. Gibbs had hand picked him from Norfolk and the ex-marine had told him he was a good Agent on more than one occasion. "And the Director was pleased enough with my work to give me that promotion to Cyber Crimes. I can do this, Boss."

"Uh huh," Gibbs considered that. "When you were with Cyber Crimes how many times did you leave the basement to go out into the field?"

"Well, you see the role wasn't really about that." McGee hedged.

"Fair enough, let's talk about your stint as senior field Agent to DiNozzo," Gibbs allowed. "You think you could have still pulled that off if you had only had a probie like Agent Lee as backup instead of knowing you had Ziva to watch your six?

McGee blinked at the question. He knew he had relied heavily on Ziva's experience. Technically she was the more senior Agent, even if the fact that she was only a liaison meant that she was not eligible for the promotion. But he still thought on balance that he had handled himself well. He wondered if Gibbs was asking because he wanted him to stand up and defend his record, or because he thought his performance hadn't been strong enough. If he was honest he knew he could have looked harder to find the money on the Renny Grant case that had been at least as much his screw up as Tony's.

"Alright, let me ask you something else," Gibbs' voice cut into his thoughts, before he had time to formulate an answer. "If that had been you, facing off against Dowling today, would you have made the shot?"

McGee hesitated. He knew that it was possible to put a bullet through one victim into another. He could draw you a diagram which showed exactly haw to do it with the minimum of trauma to the hostage. And his scores on the range proved that he was more than capable of making the shot. But putting a bullet through flesh and blood was different to shooting at a paper target and he hoped it always would be. He remembered how he had felt when he thought he had shot and killed an unarmed cop. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like to shoot a man like Gibbs, who he knew and actually ..

"Not fast enough, McGee!" Gibbs hand slammed down hard on the tray table over his bed, causing the younger man to snap out of his thoughts and flinch back before meeting the piercing blue gaze, his eyes wide with surprise as the ex-marine continued to berate him. "While you're standing there thinking about it, Dowling is already half way out the building and I'm lying on the floor in a pool of my own blood."

"Boss, I ..," McGee swallowed hard as he belatedly realised what a tough call it would be and how much harder it must have been for Tony to look into Gibbs' eyes and still make that shot. He had known Gibbs longer, worked with him more closely, even stayed at his house. It was no secret that he had a better relationship with Gibbs than he did with his own father. Tim shook his head, feeling frustrated. "Tony makes it look so easy."

"It's a helluva thing," Gibbs acknowledged, with a soft, proud, smile.

"He's not going to take the promotion in San Diego, is he?" McGee realised.

"You know the most likely way Tony will get his own team, McGee?" Gibbs tipped his head on one side as he pinned the younger man with that piercing gaze. "He wants and deserves nothing less than Major Crimes in DC and he knows damned well that I didn't have my head on straight when I quit and went to Mexico. He always knew I'd come back. I'm the type to die in harness. Tony gets that. You still think he should be more ambitious?"

* * *

AN - One more I think, Tony and McGee have some loose ends to tie up and then I think this will be done.


	8. Chapter 8

AN – So, I _really_ wasn't going to write this. But then CD57 suggested it would be nice to have some Tony looking after Gibbs time – and I kinda liked that idea and I wanted to address the concerns that Gibbs was being too hard on McGee, plus I had a day off today, so consider this a bonus chapter. But now I have to go to work so final chapter either Wednesday or probably Thursday.

And for terra fea1 'dying in harness' just dying on the job, so Tony would be stepping into dead men's shoes as their team lead, in this case after Gibbs demise, not something I think he he would be keen to happen anytime soon – I didn't think it was just an English expression but maybe I'm wrong about that.

* * *

"You know," Tony spoke conversationally, as he leant against the wall the following morning, watching as Gibbs signed his discharge papers. "We could always go to my place. I have that big leather couch, and the plasma TV with every sports channel you can think of. And my new raindrop shower would be great for your shoulder. It has a massage facility."

"Not allowed to get the stitches wet, remember?" Gibbs didn't even spare him a glance, as he returned the forms to a smiling nurse.

"Not allowed to work on the boat either," Tony reminded him. "Complete rest the Doctor said at least until you have given that shoulder a chance to heal up some. That means no woodworking, no running, no hand-to-hand combat, no cleaning things within an inch of their lives or any of the other fun things you like to do. You heard the man I'm under strict orders to bring you straight back here if you try pushing things."

"I heard," Gibbs agreed, putting the last of his few personal effects into the small holdall on the bed and zipping it up. "Loud and clear."

"So, my place?" Tony asked, without much hope.

"Nope," Gibbs didn't disappoint. "You pack a bag like I told you to?"

"Yes sir." Tony sighed his defeat all too aware that his own actions already proved that he had figured he was fighting a loosing battle all along.

_That _got him a grin. "Smart move."

Reaching over with his good arm to pick up the bag, Gibbs wasn't entirely surprised when Tony was suddenly beside him, his warm brown hand closing possessively under the handles. The two men engaged in a staring contest for a few moments, Gibbs' feeling a spark of pride and affection, when Tony refused to back down. With a quirk of a smile he acceded to the younger man's wishes and let go, allowing DiNozzo to carry the bag for him.

He drew the line at wheelchair through, pretending not to notice when Tony shortened his long stride to his more careful pace as he tried not to jar his shoulder any more than was necessary. Listening with only half an ear to his chatter as they made their way to the parking lot Gibbs reflected on the sweats, zip up hooded fleece, and slip on deck shoes, DiNozzo had brought to the Hospital. All clothes that he had been able to easily manage one-handed and avoid the awkwardness of needing help to get dressed. That level of thoughtfulness spoke volumes. As did the careful way the younger man drove then through the familiar streets to his residence.

"So, what are we going to do for the next two days?" Tony asked, as he jogged back down the stairs, having deposited their bags in their respective rooms, and finding Gibbs in the kitchen, going through the motions of brewing a fresh pot of coffee. "Besides stare at the walls."

Gibbs gave him a look, even as he reached into the refrigerator for the coffee beans. He wasn't surprised to see that someone had been around and cleared out the out of date foodstuffs and done some grocery shopping. From the eclectic mix of his and DiNozzo's favourites, plus a few things he had never even see before, he figured it was probably Abby.

"You could try reading," He suggested with a straight face. "You might even like it."

"For two days?" Tony countered, as he moved around Gibbs and started pulling out onions, tomatoes and a large pan, which he set on the counter. They both knew he read widely enough. He made a reproving face as he plucked the bag of coffee beans out of Gibbs hands and directed him with a look to one of the chairs tucked under the kitchen table. "I'll do that. You are supposed to be resting."

"I can still make my own damned coffee." Gibbs protested.

"Not if you want me to make Lasagne." Tony informed him cheerfully.

Gibbs hesitated only a moment, before he sank into the chair. DiNozzo's Lasagne was a thing of legend, made from scratch, from entirely fresh ingredients it was a true labour of love, which he saved for special occasions and very special people. Gibbs wasn't going to pass that up. He watched for a moment as Tony fixed his coffee just as he liked it and set it to brew.

"You make the pasta already?" He asked.

"Came over before to mix and roll the dough," Tony agreed. "It's drying in the pantry to make the sheets easier to handle."

"Someday you'll have to show me how to do that."

"Really?" Tony raised his eyebrows. Gibbs was a good cook but his recipes tended to be of the meat and gravy variety. Making pasta from scratch was fiddly and time consuming. "Wouldn't have thought it was exactly your kind of thing."

"I like to eat it." Gibbs shrugged his good shoulder.

"That's true," Tony gave him a quick, bright grin. It was rare that he got to teach the ex-marine anything and he always felt uniquely privileged when Gibbs allowed it. "I still have some flour left over. But not this weekend, you really need two good hands to do it right."

"Then it looks like this weekend is as good a time as any to have that talk you keep on putting off," Gibbs decided blandly. "Seeing as there is nothing better to do."

"McGee," Tony realised, torn between irritation at how deftly Gibbs had manoeuvred him into a corner and admiration that the man knew him so well. Sinking down into the chair opposite his Boss, he ran a hand through his hair before looking to his friend, mentor and surrogate father for guidance. "I don't know what to say to him. So, our little Probie is all grown up and wants a chance to prove himself that's not exactly a crime."

"Do you think he's ready?"

"I think he thinks he's ready," Tony countered. "And I've spent the last few years encouraging him to grow a back bone and stand his ground when someone challenges him. Sometimes, I feel like I've created a monster. But I can hardly complain when he starts to use my own tactics against me."

"It's a question of judgment," Gibbs pointed out. "And balance. You might act like a first class ass sometimes but you know when to pull your head in and focus on the task in hand."

"Gee Boss, you say the nicest things." Tony grinned at him.

"McGee's always been ambitious," Gibbs continued. "But in the past his arrogance has been cut down by his inexperience. It's difficult to get too much above yourself when reality keeps bringing you back to earth with a kick up the ass."

"Except, now he doesn't make as many mistakes as he used to, not to mention the new Director has been stroking his ego with all that geek speak," Tony agreed. "We both know I can't compete with that. Boss, McGee's got all that IQ, he will always have the drop on me when it comes to the brain stuff."

"Cleverer doesn't always mean smarter, Tony," Gibbs reminded his protégé. "And right now, McGee is in danger of becoming a lose cannon."

Tony's expression sobered as he realised the full seriousness of the situation. This wasn't just about the sibling rivalry between the two men. If McGee made a rash call or disregarded an order because he didn't respect Tony's judgment then he risked getting himself or someone else killed. The IA enquiry that followed a screw up of that magnitude would make that whole cop shooting episode look like a Sunday school picnic. DiNozzo hadn't invested all that time and energy in his Probie to see him throw away his career or maybe even his life in a fit of pique.

"I know," He dropped his head onto the table, covering it with his hands, so that his next words came out muffled against the smooth wood. "I'll talk to him."

Gibbs regarded him for a moment, tipping his head on one side as he waited patiently for his second to regain his equilibrium. DiNozzo was right to think it wouldn't be easy, but it was necessary and he had no doubt that Tony was up it. Even so, when the younger man began bouncing his head none too gently off the table in his frustration he figured it was time for a spot of tough love.

"You want me to talk to him?" He challenged.

That brought DiNozzo's head up sharply, his eyes wide with eager hope as he considered the offer. He even went as far as opening his mouth to accept. But something in Gibbs' expression as their gazes locked across the table made the words die in his throat. Summoning his resolve, he shook his head, knowing that he was making the right choice.

"No, you're still on sick leave, this is my team, my lead, my problem, I'll deal with it."

"Good," Gibbs nodded his approval, before looking longingly over Tony's shoulder at the coffee pot. Just sometimes he wished his tastes didn't run to it being quite so strong. Days like this it took too damned long to brew. DiNozzo's chair scraped across the floor, the sound loud in sudden silence, as he got to his feet and filled a glass with water, placing it and two white pills wordlessly in front of him.

"I put your bag in your room," He offered, his eyes focusing on the lines of pain and exhaustion around Gibbs eyes. "You could go up and .. unpack. I'll bring you up your coffee when it's ready."

Gibbs stared at the pain medication for a moment, before scooping them up in his hand and throwing them back, crunching them between his teeth as he pointedly ignored the glass of water. Maybe a lie down wouldn't be such a bad idea. Although, he was grateful that DiNozzo had the plain good sense not to make it sound like he needed a nap.

"Maybe I will." He allowed.

Steeling himself he rose carefully to his feet and made his way across the lounge room. He felt slightly lightheaded and his shoulder throbbed with each step. It seemed to take an age to get to the bottom of the stairs. When he put his foot on the first riser, he felt DiNozzo's arm wrap around his waist, leaning in a little to let him put his good arm around the younger man's shoulder, as he took most of his weight. Nothing more was said, as they made their way up the stairs and into the bedroom.

"Head?" Tony asked.

"Bed," Gibbs responded tiredly, letting himself be supported as Tony pulled back the covers and lowered him down onto the mattress. He tolerated DiNozzo's hovering as he toed off his deck shoes and swung his own legs around, leaning back into the pillows as he yanked the covers back up. Once he was comfortably settled he looked up and scowled at his continuing presence. "You waiting on something?"

"Not me, Boss." Tony assured him, as he turned and headed towards the door.

Gibbs paused, as an idea hit him. McGee was a proud and stubborn young man. Gibbs admired him for that. And he hoped that his conversation with the junior Agent had given him some food for thought about his present capabilities. But the fact remained that if he and DiNozzo couldn't settle this he might lose one or both of them, one way or another, and he wasn't prepared to let that happen.

"DiNozzo."

He watched as Tony turned on his heel, his expression open and receptive, ready and willing to do whatever it was the ex-marine wanted or needed. It made Gibbs chest constrict a little to see it and he had to swallow hard before he was sure his voice would come out even.

"McGee."

"Calling him now, Boss," Tony nodded. "Although, I still don't know what I'm going to tell him."

"Then don't tell him," Gibbs smiled dangerously. "Show him."


	9. Chapter 9

AN - And so it goes on .. still not quite the end!

* * *

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

In the pre-dawn light McGee frowned as he rolled over in bed on Sunday morning and reluctantly returned to consciousness. Raising his head slightly he peered at his alarm clock. 0630. Dropping his head back down onto the pillow he tried to figure out why his head was pounding. Sure, he had taken full advantage of the fact that the team had a free weekend and hadn't got to bed until 2am – having got caught up in a new RPG. But he couldn't remember drinking anything, no matter enough to give him a hangover.

_Thump, Thumpity, Thump. _

"C'mon McGee, open up."

McGee groaned out loud as he realised that the sound wasn't reverberating through his head but his whole apartment, as DiNozzo pounded on the door and hollered loud enough to wake the dead. McGee was sorely tempted to put his head under the pillow to muffle the sound and go back to sleep. But even off rotation there was always the chance it was case-related and more importantly the noise was going to wake his neighbours. Tim knew better than to think Tony would give up any time soon. Besides, if he didn't let him, he wouldn't put it past DiNozzo to simply break the door down.

"I know you're awake, McGee," Thump, Thump, Thump. "You have three seconds to let me in or I'm using my lock picks."

Resigning himself to the inevitable, McGee dragged himself out of bed and made his way to the door before he found himself on the end of a complaint from Mrs Foster on the resident's committee. He opened up to see a grinning DiNozzo standing in the hallway, dressed in sweat pants and an NIS sweatshirt , looking for all the world like it wasn't still almost the middle of the night, holding a take-out bag and chewing happily on a breakfast burrito. Taking advantage of the fact that Tony's mouth was full McGee did not give him a chance to speak.

"You don't have any lock picks and even if you did you don't know how to use them."

"I borrowed Ziva's," Tony pushed past him, as he shoved the bag at his chest, causing a still half asleep McGee to fumble slightly as he caught it. "And I've been taking lessons."

"In long distance running? Because that's what you'll be doing if Ziva finds out you've been going through her stuff again," As he closed the door McGee peered into the bag, almost gagged at the rich greasy smell this early in the morning and set it aside. "And I know I'm going to regret asking this but what are you doing here?"

"Eat up," Tony nodded at the bag. "You're going to need your strength."

"We catch a case?"

McGee didn't think so. Tony wasn't displaying any particular signs of urgency. But there was no mistaking the pointed look he gave the take-out bag when Tim didn't follow his instruction. Risking a second look into the bag, McGee decided he still couldn't face it, but moved towards the kitchen to find a more acceptable breakfast alternative. He had no idea how DiNozzo had found a take-out place open this early on a Sunday, but then he was like a walking Encyclopaedia of fast food outlets and was probably on first name terms with all of the ones in his neighbourhood.

"S' not a case," Tony mumbled around another bite of burrito. "But it is work related."

McGee waited, as he looked out bowl, milk and high fibre cereal, but nothing more was forthcoming. Wandering back into the living space he took a spoonful of cereal, but Tony still didn't add anything more. Looking at the other man, he chewed his mouthful of cereal as slowly as he could, but still Tony didn't crack. Two more leisurely spoonfuls and Tim had gone from being annoyed at being rousted out of bed and a growing feeling of concern at his team mate's unusual behaviour. Having finished his own breakfast Tony was just standing there, watching him with a strange expression on his face. He wasn't even trying to bug him or go through his stuff or anything.

"Um," McGee felt a little awkward. "Are you okay? I mean, nothing_ bad _has happened has it?"

"What?" Tony blinked, clearly not expecting that. "No, no-one has been drugged, kidnapped, blown up or shot. Well apart from Gibbs and you already knew about that. And I haven't been accused of murder for weeks now."

"I thought maybe..," McGee shrugged.

There were so many minefields, Jeanne, Jenny, his father. It was never easy to judge what seemingly innocent event might trip some personal or work related funk. Usually Gibbs, Abby or Ducky were the best people to bring him out of it. But Ziva and McGee had both taken turns. Pressing his lips together McGee decided he was totally at a loss to understand what Tony was doing there. Especially, at that hour of the morning, it wasn't like they had that many free weekends.

"But thanks."

The soft spoken words cut into his thoughts and he looked up to see Tony regarding him with an unusually sincere expression that he had cared enough to ask. McGee simply nodded, but he felt warmed by the other man's gratitude. Sometimes, he lost sight of how much Tony needed his friendship. He knew Tony had no longer had any contact with his father, but it was hard for him with such a close and loving family to fully appreciate what that must be like.

"Thought you were baby sitting the Boss this weekend," He tried for a lighter tone. "Does he know that you've gone AWOL?"

Tony chose not to answer that. McGee didn't need the added pressure of knowing that this had been Gibbs' idea. He had wanted to put things off until Monday when Gibbs was feeling a little stronger and there would be people around the office to keep an eye on him. It was only when the ex-marine had reminded Tony that Vance had only given him a 24 hour window and actually gone so far as to arrange for the woman Ducky usually used to watch over his Mother to come round for a few hours this morning that the younger man had realised how strongly Gibbs felt about addressing this.

"You ready?" He nodded at the now empty bowl.

"Depends," Tim met his look with one of his own. "Are you ready to tell me what for?"

"Dress, like me," Tony responded and there was no mistaking the order in his tone. "You're getting a job interview."

"I am?" McGee's heart leapt. "You're considering Vance's offer."

"Maybe." Tony allowed.

Despite the rather guarded response, McGee couldn't help smiling a little as he moved towards the bedroom to gather some clothes, when a thought struck him, sticking his head back around the door with a small frown he met DiNozzo's gaze. "If this is a job interview, wouldn't the Director expect me to wear something a little more formal than sweats?"

"Not for what we're going to be doing," Tony smiled, but this time there was no mirth in it. "If I'm going to move clear across the country I need to know that someone back here is reigning Gibbs in, stopping him from going off half-cocked, or at the very least able to watch his six, even when he goes off grid."

"It's not like you've always been able to control him." McGee protested.

"I've never let him get killed either, Probie," Tony deliberately taunted. God knows, Gibbs had done it enough to him over the years, pushing his buttons, challenging his capabilities, unashamedly pushing him to be the best he could. And it had saved both their lives more than once. He wasn't about to do anything less for McGee. "Now get a move on, we're burning daylight."

To Tim's dismay their first stop was the NCIS gym. Donning the gloves and the head gear McGee was at least grateful that at this time on a Sunday the place was deserted. Tony was many things but his partner wasn't about to make his (almost) inevitable humiliation public. The Italian might act like a klutz but he had been sparring with Gibbs for years and lived to tell the tale. Tim had even heard their Boss offer gruff praise at his abilities before knocking his senior field Agent on his ass. To his surprise, when they got into the ring Tony was calm and patient, applauding his efforts and offering encouragement and advice to improve. Tim had begun to feel confident almost a little cocky, when DiNozzo suddenly took his legs out from under him and laid him out on the canvas.

"Not bad, McGee," Tony offered a hand up. "Not bad."

"Ow." McGee managed.

Their next stop was the firing range. Knowing that his scores were always consistently good, McGee shot coolly, confident that knowledge and understanding of the science of trajectory would not disappoint the ballistics expert. DiNozzo stood and watched impassively as he returned two almost perfect scores, but even as the senior field Agent inspected the targets and offered a nod of approval for the tight grouping, McGee instinctively knew that the test was far from over. Still, he wasn't prepared for DiNozzo to reach over into his jacket and pluck out his beloved Blackberry.

"No, please." He almost begged.

Tony paid him no heed as he strode towards the target, and producing a length of tape out of no-where, proceeded to secure it to black and white rings. McGee swallowed hard, his whole life was on that device, addresses, contacts, everything, and as much as he knew he ought to back up regularly he knew that he hadn't done it nearly often enough. Plus it was the newest model, with higher specs than NCIS would spring for and he had had it less than a week.

"Make like Kevin Costner." Tony ordered.

Afterwards, the fact that he had recognised the movie reference from "Prince of Thieves" would be no comfort at all. Granted, Robin Hood had allowed himself to be distracted when Maid Marion had blown in his ear, but when it _reall_y counted, when his half-brother Will Scarlet's life had been in danger he had ignored, fire, attack and all types of danger to accurately make the shot. When he put a bullet through his Blackberry McGee only had to worry about buying and backing up a new model In the future, when it really counted, he could not help but worry he might need to bury a friend.

"Ready for part three?" Tony asked.

McGee had always loved pop quizzes. All through school he had been a diligent student, one who had kept up with new material and this never been caught short when the teacher announced there would be a test. It was a little disconcerting to realise how much paperwork Gibbs expected his senior field Agent to manage. McGee had not even known that half of those government forms existed, much less what he was now supposed to do with them.

"I never did these requisitions when I was your senior field Agent," He protested sensing unfairness.

"I know." Tony gave him a level look.

In spite of himself, McGee felt the blush rise in his cheeks. It had never occurred to him that Tony had deliberately weighted his responsibilities, keeping some of the tasks that he had been accustomed to do as senior field Agent, so as not to overwhelm the younger man. And worse, he had never even tried to rub his face in it. He had never even mentioned it. McGee suddenly felt bad for thinking that Tony might have been trying to stack the odds in favour of his failure.

"Alright," Tony surged to his feet. "Are you ready for the piece de resistance?"

McGee held his peace as Tony led the way out of the NCIS building and down to the parking garage. He sat silently as they made their way through familiar streets, resisting the temptation to ask Tony where they might be going. Maybe, trying to work it out was part of the test. He frowned as they took an exit and moved into a residential neighbourhood, he hadn't been out here all that often but he knew enough about the local landmarks and passing street names to draw the most obvious conclusion.

"You're taking me to Gibbs house." He realised.

"Very good," Tony didn't take his eyes off the road. "We'll make an investigator of you yet, Probie."

McGee bristled slightly at the slightly mocking tone, as if the other man had expected him to work it out rather sooner. It wasn't as if he was a mind reader and besides, even now he couldn't imagine why they were going to Gibbs' or what they might do when they got there. Tony had made it quite clear that his 'interview' wasn't over yet and McGee had the awful suspicion that the worst was yet to come.

"Are you ready?" Tony asked him, as he pulled up behind Gibbs' car in the driveway.

"Bring it on." McGee decided he could at least sound confident.

He watched as Tony led the way inside and exchanged a few words to the women seated in the kitchen, before fetching her coat and helping her into it. Then to McGee's surprise and horror, he picked up his car keys and moved towards the front door.

"I'm taking Helen home. Gibbs is upstairs, fix him some lunch, keep him out of trouble, I have a few errands to run. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Wait!" McGee didn't much care that his voice had come out as a slightly undignified squeak. Much as he liked and respected Gibbs the man could be hard to deal with when he was fit and well. The thought of having to cope with a grumpy, injured, version filled him with dread. "You're leaving me to look after Gibbs?"

"Uh huh," Tony met his eyes and McGee realised that _this _was the real test. "Watch his six, McGee."


	10. Chapter 10

"Hey Probie, did you miss me?"

McGee jerked upright from where he had been hunched over, resting his weary forehead on the kitchen table, too physically and emotionally drained even to even drag himself to the couch as he tried to catch a few moments of rest. Now he narrowed his eyes to thin, furious, slits as as DiNozzo waltzed in through thefront door of Gibbs' home, several bags of Chinese take-out tucked under his chin, looking as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Where have you _been?"_ McGee hissed, between gritted teeth, careful to keep his voice low. "It's been _hours_. I tried calling you, I sent you messages, I even used my lap top to triangulate a search on your cell."

"I might have left it on silent," Tony admitted as he put the bags on the table and began pulling out cartons. "But you could just have looked next to the stove, it was right there on the countertop."

"I know that _now_, but I was trying to reach you," McGee was frustrated, Tony was the one who had taught _him _rule three. "Why didn't you take it with you?"

"Why were you trying to reach me?" Tony paused in mid-motion, pinning him with a sharp gaze.

"Um," McGee hesitated. "Never mind I took care of it."

McGee waited, but Tony made no response. He simply went back to unloading the cartons of Chinese food, before reaching in a drawer for silverware and opening a cupboard for plates. If he was honest, Tim had expected Tony to return ready to interrogate him about his day, eager to crow over his misfortunes and mock his errors. At the time the fact that the man had left his phone behind had infuriated him. Not to mention the way he had been gone nearly all day leaving him alone with Gibbs had seemed like a particularly cruel practical joke. But now he began to wonder if he should be looking at this from a different angle.

Tony would never have left him alone with Gibbs, especially an injured, irritated, _incapacitated_, Gibbs, if he did not think he could cope, Tony was many things, but he would never knowingly put a friend at risk. More to the point, it was totally out of character for him to leave his cell behind. He might not always answer but he was never without his phone. Even during those dark days at Bethesda he had clung to his phone like a lifeline, which could only mean he had trusted McGee to deal with whatever came up McGee felt a wash of warmth as he realised he _had_ dealt with things. It had been hard, harder than any training FLETC had ever come up with, but he had survived, better than that, he had _coped_, ensuring that Gibbs was fed, well-rested, kept safe even from himself and was appropriately medicated, despite the man's own stubborn streak on that subject.

"Its almost time for Gibbs' Meds," He realised, glancing at the clock. "He had his last dose about four hours ago, so he's going to be feeling that arm again pretty soon."

"You get him to take them?" Tony asked, in genuine enquiry.

"No," McGee admitted, feeling the slight blush rise in his face at his failure. "I tried but he said .."

"I know what he said, McGee," Tony shook his head with a rueful smile. "The same things he always says. So, what did you do? Crush them up and put them in his sandwich? Dose his coffee? Dissolve them in his bourbon?"

"You do all those things?" McGee blinked. "You've done that?"

"When Gibbs won't take his Meds I have," Tony agreed easily. "So, mostly now he just takes them once he knows I mean business, took a few months though. The important thing is thought you have to be consistent. Do not let him psyche you out."

"I'll try to remember that," McGee nodded seriously, even as Tony's words made him feel oddly concerned, even though he wasn't sure why. "I just called Abby and got her to guilt him into taking them. She was really impressive, I think she even cried."

"Emotional blackmail? Excellent use of available resources, McGee," Tony grinned his approval, causing the other man to relax just a little. Still, McGee had no time to bask in the praise before DiNozzo was moving on to his next topic of enquiry. "So, what light but satisfying and nutritionally balanced lunch did you prepare to hasten our wounded leader's recovery to health?"

"You never said it had to be nutritionally balanced," McGee defended his actions, even as his heart sank. "You just said make him lunch."

"He's injured. McGee," Tony pointed out. "Injured people need the right balance of carbs and proteins and stuff to rebuild cells and muscles and .." Tony floundered. "Other things."

"Are you sure you're a Phys Ed Major?" McGee queried.

"Stop changing the subject," Tony retorted. "What did you two have for lunch?"

"I called out for Pizza," McGee admitted, slightly uncomfortably, before striving to justify his choice. "It was the only thing Gibbs said he felt like and I figured some food was better than no food, especially on top of his meds and you always say how it has all the food groups in it."

"I do, it does," Tony acknowledged, in a way that was giving no ground. "But as you just so adroitly pointed out I told you to _make _him lunch."

"I _made_ the call." McGee shot back.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Tim wondered if it had been a mistake to use a DiNozzoism against the master. He braced himself for a volley of one-upmanship, but the expression that flashed across DiNozzo's face before he turned to reach the juice from the refrigerator wasn't anything like what he expected. For a split second Tim thought Tony actually looked _wistful _but surely that couldn't be right?

"Did he eat much?" Tony wanted to know.

"About half the pizza." Tim didn't think that was too bad. "It was a large."

Apparently, Tony didn't think it was too bad either because he made no comment as he collected three glasses and filled them with juice, before returning the carton to the refrigerator. McGee watched the calm, deliberate movements and couldn't help feeling that something in their NCIS world was, as Abby would say, totally hinky. Part of him almost wanted DiNozzo to make a wise crack at his expense.

"McGee!" Tony's sharp tone cut into his thoughts. "What are you waiting for? The food is getting cold. Go wake Gibbs. If he doesn't get his soup he will kick both our asses."

"Me?" McGee's first reaction was surprise that the other man wouldn't want to check on their Boss for himself after being out of the house all day. But that was swiftly followed by a flush of pride that the senior field Agent clearly didn't feel the need to come in and take over as soon as he stepped through the door. Even so, he couldn't help shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. "Are you sure you don't want to ..?"

"I left you in charge, your orders still stand," Tony reminded him, without bothering to make eye contact, as he sat himself down, picked up a fork and pulled one of the cartons towards him, squinting unhappily at the mix of meat, vegetables and noodles inside. "I should have ordered the shrimp."

McGee shifted his weight as he prepared to make his way upstairs but something held him in place. Not the expression on Tony's face. Nothing about his tone of voice, not even his body language. In fact there was no reason for McGee to be the least bit concerned, which was exactly how he figured Tony wanted it and that alone was enough to hold him in place. Any occasion – short of moments of imminent danger of death and sometimes even then – when DiNozzo didn't strive to be the centre of attention were always cause for concern.

"You're taking the job," He realised. "In San Diego, you're going to leave."

"Its time," Tony shrugged slightly, as he paid rather more attention to his meal than the simple noodles warranted. "I've been here long enough, time to move on."

"But I shot my Blackberry!" McGee protested, still haunted by the fear that could have been a teammate. "And the paperwork and the boxing ..?"

"You'll learn." Tony shrugged.

"You ready think I'm ready?" McGee ventured.

"Ready?" Tony shook his head at that. "No-one is ever ready to become Gibbs' senior field Agent. Its is a lot like waiting for the Spanish Inquisition, no matter how much you think you are ready you can never really be prepared. The trick is not minding and being able to deal with the fallout when it comes."

"Right." McGee nodded, suddenly feeling a whole lot less secure about the promotion than he had when it was entirely in his head.

"Your problem McGee is that you sweat the small stuff too much," Tony eyed him seriously. "If you expect perfection of yourself or those around you, someone is gonna get killed. You have to learn to focus on the bigger picture. You've never let any of us down when it really counts.

""So, stop trying so hard and I'll do fine?" McGee offered. "Mrs Hollander, my third grade teacher said exactly the same thing."

"Then she must have been a wise woman," Tony surmised. He took another forkful of food before fixing McGee with a meaningful look. "I wasn't kidding about how pissed Gibbs is going to be if I eat all of this before he gets a chance at the soup."

"Maybe you should go," McGee hedged. Something was seriously wrong with DiNozzo and he needed to get to the bottom of it before he made any hasty decisions. "I was worried he might be running a temperature earlier but he would probably break my fingers if I tried to feel his brow. You might have better luck."

"Why didn't you say so before?" Tony demanded, his chair already scraping across the floor as he rose to his feet, long strides eating up the distance between the kitchen and the stairs, turning his head to bark one word over his shoulder in a more than passing impression of Gibbs. "Symptoms?"

"Irritability, shortness of temper, flushed complexion." McGee reported. "Sounds like the Boss on a good day," Tony retorted, as he made his way up the stairs, a new sense of purpose and direction invigorating his attitude. Even so, he slowed somewhat as he approached the master bedroom, pausing on the threshold to look carefully at the figure, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, tossing restlessly in the bed. "Damn." McGee watched from the doorway as Tony approached the bed, he might not have been entirely honest about the rising temperature but there was no doubt that the injury and resulting trauma had stirred up some deep emotions in their Boss, that even the heavy medication Ducky had prescribed couldn't entirely diminish. He saw his own concern mirrored in Tony's eyes. Then his friend and his teammate reached forward a warm, brown, hand, and let it rest lightly on Gibbs' brow. Instantly, the other man calmed under his touch, his expression smoothing out as a warm thumb caressed his temple. McGee sighed. Given the strength of medication Gibbs had taken, a trained monkey could probably have soothed him with a calming touch and the ex-marine would have been none the wiser. But it was the look of loss on Tony's face, the expression of anguish in his eyes as he continued to caress a vulnerable temple, the way the way the set of his shoulders spoke of abandonment and despair that touched his soul. And in that moment, McGee realised exactly how much a transfer to San Diego would cost DiNozzo. And in a dawning of painful realisation he finally understood why Tony had hated his promotion to Agent Afloat so much. Why he was so reluctant to leave Washington and those he loved.

The closest thing he had to a family. The closest thing he would ever that was the moment that McGee realised. Whilst he might be ready to step up and try his hand at being senior field Agent, for him it would mean breaking up the team. For Tony it would be shattering the only security he had ever known. The only father figure who had ever given a damn about him, Tim shook his head, first the loss of his royalties from Deep Six on the stock market had taught him that money wasn't nearly as important as he had imagined. Now he was learning that there was more to ambition and career goals than pure advancement.

"Tony," His voice was firm and there was no hesitation in his tone. There would be other chances at promotion where the cost was not so high. "About the posting to San Diego .."


End file.
